La Tourmente de L'Horreur
by StanfouQueen
Summary: Lefou's and Stanley's hearts are full of joy as they leave the ball thrown in honor of Adam's curse breaking. Both are completely unaware that Lefou is about to face a far worse curse, one that true love can't break.


A/N: Hello all! Here is yet another Stanfou fic because they have taken over my mind, heart and soul.

After hearing Josh Gad's interview about his horse Buddy, and noticing that Alexis Loizon fell in love with horse riding while he was being taught, I decided it simply had to be canon that Lefou's horse hates him but Stanley is a regular horse whisperer. So that's why I've included that.

While titling this fic, I did something I hate- using Google Translate for words. I do know the grammar well enough since French and Spanish have very similar grammatical rules, but my vocabulary is lacking. Hopefully there aren't any obvious howlers here. Please do let me know if I've messed anything up too badly, because I am a stickler for accuracy.

Please note that this story will be incredibly graphic for reasons that will be made clear later. If it gets to be too much, please feel free to stop reading. But I hope you do enjoy this!

* * *

Lefou was certain he was living a dream come true.

Sure, it wasn't the dream he'd thought he wanted; _that_ dream would have involved Gaston. But Gaston had changed, so why shouldn't Lefou's dream?

Instead of Gaston, the man willing to use his lifelong best friend as a human shield, Lefou was in the arms of _Stanley_. And oh, it felt so very right. The two were dancing, Stanley gently twirling Lefou and giving a shy smile as the other came closer to him again.

And then he tipped Lefou backwards, just short of the point where gravity would force him to the ground. Lefou gasped in shock, having never experienced this sort of dancing before, but Stanley stayed firm. Held in Stanley's arms, Lefou looked into his eyes, breath catching as he took in the face above him. He looked beautiful. Like an angel, he would have thought, if there were any angels like him. Like _them_.

But he shook away his fears for the moment, because with the way Stanley was looking at him, Lefou was certain they were about to kiss. Lefou ached for it, ached to feel that electric sensation.

Sure enough, Stanley pulled him back upright and then closer to him, until their chests were flush together. Their faces were next, slow and deliberate; both wanted the moment to last as long as possible.

It occurred to Lefou that they were still in a crowd of dancers, but for the first time in his life, he wasn't afraid he'd be burned at the stake for his identity. He could simply _be_.

"Stanley," he breathed, awestruck. He said the name again reverently. "Stanley…"

"Le-" Stanley began, and then shook his head. "Mon cher."

Lefou knew what Stanley was doing; refusing to call him by the nickname that was as insulting as it was endearing, but also refusing to ask the question he knew could easily be painful.

Immensely grateful for Stanley's discretion, Lefou cradled the back of Stanley's head in one hand, finally allowing their lips to meet. It was wonderfully soft and warm, and it felt like the delightful heat was spreading through not just his body, but his soul.

Eyes drifting closed, he sighed into the kiss. Stanley supported him, arms firmly wrapped around his neck.

Lefou's heart was pounding with the happiest nervousness he'd ever felt. He found himself realizing they had been so alike all this time; while Lefou had pined after Gaston, Stanley had been waiting for him, waiting and hoping he would see.

And now he did.

"I never realized," whispered Lefou, falling back into the dance.

"I was torn," Stanley admitted, "between wanting you to see, and hoping you never did. I could have taken if you simply didn't know, but if you actively…" He trailed off, but Lefou understand, for that was a perfect reflection of his scenario with Gaston. Minus the betrayal.

The thought of Gaston caused a pang of grief, and he suddenly hid his face in Stanley's shoulder. Stanley, while perhaps not understanding the exact cause, could guess at Lefou's emotions, and he stroked his back gently. "Shh, petit," he soothed. "We've got each other now, and that-"

"-Is everything," Lefou finished for him, leaning into the touch and once again resuming the dance.

The other guests had already changed partners twice by now, and were getting ready to make a third switch, but Lefou refused to let Stanley go, clinging tighter to him so that none of the women would make the mistake of trying to cut in. For his part, Stanley was just as unwilling to break away. He looked at Lefou as though he'd found a long lost treasure, and kept touching his cheek to confirm to himself that this was real.

The two spent the rest of the ball together, until the sun had set and the other guests began to filter out. It became clear they were to leave soon, but neither wanted to let this time end.

It was Stanley who finally mustered the courage to ask, "Would you like to ride back to Villeneuve with me?"

It was the easiest "yes" Lefou ever gave. He held Stanley's hand tightly, rubbing his thumb over Stanley's palm as they headed for the stables where their horses were lodged.

"Hello there, démon," Lefou grumbled on finding his mount. The horse simply flicked its tail as a silent taunt.

"A demon?" asked Stanley, laughing. "It's just a horse!"

"A demon horse," Lefou replied, petting his horse's brown nose and then jumping back as it made to bite him. "You see?"

"Hmm," Stanley hummed, stepping forward. "That is quite a problem. One we should solve sooner rather than later." He looked the horse in the eye, tilting his head. "Hello there. You can bite me all you want, but I'll come out on top in the end."

To Lefou's shock, the horse backed down then, bowing its head ever so slightly. Instantly Lefou began wondering whether he was exceptionally bad with horses, or if Stanley was exceptionally talented with them. Probably some of both, he figured, feeling a rush of admiration for Stanley.

"That settles it, mon ami," Stanley declared, gently rubbing the horse's nose. Turning his head back to Lefou, he asked, "what is his name?"

" _Her_ name is Fleur," Lefou replied.

"Ah," said Stanley. "Well, I will be riding Fleur tonight, and you'll be riding Cole." He gestured his head at his own horse, a beautiful, midnight-black stallion. He was much bigger than Lefou's pony, about sixteen and a half hands tall, and with far stronger legs reminiscent of a draft horse. "Cole, I trust you to take good care of this man for me. Hmm?"

Lefou let out a soft laugh at Stanley's command, and then approached Cole cautiously, holding his fingers out to Cole's nose. Cole let out a calm breath, and Lefou gently stroked the stallion's face. "Beautiful," he murmured in amazement. The horse let out a sigh, nostrils flaring ever so slightly as he did so. Again, Lefou whispered, "Beautiful."

With none of the difficulties Lefou was used to with his filly, he climbed aboard and settled onto the saddle. Cole was remarkably gentle, steps soft enough that a trot felt like a walk.

He gazed over at Stanley, amused at how easily he had tamed Fleur. The pair made quite a sight, and all feelings of frustration aside, it warmed Lefou's heart.

The pair set a smooth pace; slow enough to enjoy the ride through the now-normal woods, but fast enough not to linger. Lefou kept looking over at Stanley, who would then notice and give a soft smile.

Unbidden, a thought expressed itself aloud. "He and I used to ride together." He didn't have to say who he meant. "Every day. It felt nice. Even though…" He shook his head. "It felt comforting. We were _le duo_. And now… I don't know what I am."

Stanley was quiet, trying to find just the right words. But they wouldn't come, for they didn't exist in this situation. He took a glance skyward, and then back at Lefou. "You'll find who you really are in time." He got his horse to move closer, enough that he could reach out and grasp Lefou's hand. "And I hope that I can guide you through that journey, whether as a friend or a lover."

Lefou gave a laugh that was equal parts amusement and despair. "Stanley, we spent half the night kissing and dancing; I believe it's safe to say we're together now."

"I didn't want to assume," said Stanley with a shrug. "But that only makes me more determined. I will stay at your side." He smiled a little, and then said, "but, I will need you to do one thing for me first."

"Oh?" asked Lefou, tugging slightly on Cole's reins to slow him. "If I can do it, I will."

"I would certainly hope you could do this," said Stanley. "You see, we've known each other since childhood, though admittedly no one was as close as you with Gaston." If he noticed Lefou's slight wince, he ignored it. "We all fought in the war together- though, once again, without seeing as much of each other as you and Gaston." He shook his head. "I'm rambling now. What I mean, Lefou, is that we have known each other for so long, and there's so much we know about each other, and yet I don't know your real name, or why you have that nickname. If we are to be lovers, I'd hate to call you a fool."

Lefou had been expecting this, and yet he still didn't know how to answer. "I'll answer the easy part of the question; the other will have to wait," he said honestly. There was only so much he could do in a day. He allowed the sound of crickets chirping to lull him, and he closed his eyes for a long moment. "My name is Adrien."

Stanley didn't press him for more information, and instead murmured, "Adrien… a lovely name." Fiddling with Fleur's mane, he said, "I feel like I'm meeting you for the first time tonight… It's nice to meet you, Adrien."

Pulled out of his thoughts by the comment, Lefou gave a soft laugh. "And it's nice to meet you, Stanley." Stanley was right- it did feel as though he was meeting the man anew. Both had been changed drastically just in the time since the attack on the castle. But all the things Lefou had always liked about Stanley were still there, and that meant the world to him.

"You dance well," Stanley told him, blushing lightly.

The comment caught Lefou off guard and made him blush as well, but he managed to meet Stanley's eyes. "That was the best dance I've ever had," he said honestly. He smiled, stroking Cole behind the ears, before turning his head again. "Since you asked me a question, I think I should be allowed to ask you one."

"But of course," said Stanley lightly. "Ask and ye shall receive."

"When we attacked the castle, you ended up in a dress and make-up, but you looked thrilled. And tonight, you danced… as a woman." It hadn't bothered him, but he was curious.

"So your question is…?" asked Stanley without irritation. Lefou understood that it was simply guiding him to something more specific, not wanting to give more details than necessary.

"How far would you say your, ah, _interest_ in femininity goes?" he asked, embarrassed at the phrasing.

"Not further than what you've already seen," said Stanley firmly. "I like the way women look; they are allowed to be beautiful in a way we're not, and… much like how our relationship is forbidden, I find myself wanting to capture that beauty for myself. As for the dancing… it was simply more fun that way. How else could I find myself in a man's arms? Most importantly yours?" He grinned mischievously.

"Well, it certainly worked," said Lefou, glancing over at him. Then he turned serious. "When we're alone together, you can wear whatever you want. I thought you looked lovely in that dress."

"'Be free,'" Stanley murmured with a soft sigh. "Just as she said. I owe her so much more than I can ever repay."

"From what little I know of Madame de Garderobe," said Lefou confidently, "I think she would accept you having the courage for this."

"Ah, that is true," Stanley agreed. He noticed the smell of pine had gotten fainter, indicating that they were almost out of the forest, and let out a soft sigh. He didn't want to give up the freedom he'd found in the castle, but knew he would once they reached Villeneuve. He could continue his relationship with Lefou, certainly, but only in secret. They would never know the pleasure of marriage.

Lefou seemed to sense his emotions, and reached out, stroking the back of Stanley's hand. "We can be ourselves together, right?" he asked softly.

"Always," Stanley vowed, smiling shyly at Lefou. "We'll only have to hide from… well, everyone else in the village." He laughed wryly. "But this means we have one less person to hide from, right?"

"Right," Lefou agreed, looking over at Stanley for a moment. He stroked Cole's soft mane, thinking of all he had learned tonight. About himself, about Stanley. He wondered what might have happened if he had realized that he could be happy with Stanley sooner. Would that have affected Gaston's treatment of him? Would he have threatened Lefou with the asylum earlier than he actually had.

"Come now," said Stanley, voice gentle and comforting. "We should enjoying this. It's not every day you find romance, and I want to savor it with you."

"Yes," Lefou agreed. They could worry later. He took in a slow breath, and then asked, "so how did you find this horse? He's incredible."

"Ah," said Stanley, smiling. "He was born six years ago from my oldest sister's prize mare and stallion."

Impressed, Lefou told him, "well, feel free to let me know next time the mare foals."

"Unfortunately, Marguerite had complications with her last birth." Stanley's voice was wistful. "She barely survived, and the farrier said she must never be bred again."

"Pity," said Lefou, admiring Cole's coat. "I would like to be rid of my demon over there."

Stanley chuckled. "You do realize she's just trying to get a rise out of you? It's a game to her now, Adrien."

"Well, she is certainly succeeding." Lefou's grumbling turned into laughter when he noticed Stanley's expression.

The two fell into comfortable chatter, and never noticed that they were being watched.

—

The forest's wolves weren't ordinary ones; in fact, they weren't wolves at all. They were hellhounds, but none of the villagers ever realized this, for they were seen too rarely. When they were noticed at all, their appearance was so terrifying that nobody bothered to question what they'd seen. They were thought of as simply a pack of particularly ferocious wolves.

The pack alpha was stalking the pair of humans and horses that were coming through _their_ section of the woods. It knew the two men were too strong to take down, even with the rest of the pack, but they could also serve another purpose. The hellhound could sense wounded spirits, and both seemed to radiate that brokenness in different wavelengths. But the smaller man's pain was far more vivid. The creature could also sense an impressive amount of resilience, but not enough, not nearly enough for what _he_ had planned if this man was the one he'd been looking for.

The alpha let out a howl, summoning its master to confirm its suspicions.

Appraising the situation, the master gave him a rare bit of praise as well as a cut of meat. "Good work. Now go find your pack; we have work to do," he said quietly, and then set to work casting his most powerful curse.

—

The howling was unsettling, but the pair ignored it. They refused to let anything dampen their mood.

Soon enough they were at the border of the village, and with a series of silent gestures, decided to go to Stanley's house for the night.

Looking at the night sky, watching the shining stars and full moon, Lefou let out a sigh. "Days like this," he lamented, "are so rare, and… I don't want it to end."

"I know; this has been one of the best days of my life. But we don't have to end it yet," said Stanley. "If you are able to stay awake longer, we can sit in my yard and talk. I can get us some wine and food, if you'd like."

"I would. Thank you," Lefou murmured. Soon they arrived at Stanley's house, and parked their horses outside.

In Stanley's yard, the pair sat quietly, enjoying each other's company. Words were shared intermittently as Lefou rested his head on Stanley's shoulder, moving only occasionally to sip his wine. Stanley contented himself by rubbing Lefou's back and gazing at the heavens, watching the moon slowly crossing the sky.

Hours dragged on. Neither wanted to concede defeat to their exhaustion, but eventually, late enough that it could also be called early, Lefou was the first to give in. He shifted ever so slightly to rest more comfortable against Stanley, and then closed his eyes.

Stanley seemed only too happy to let him rest there. He stroked Lefou's hair gently, murmuring, "get some rest, minou."

Despite Lefou's fatigue, the nickname was enough to make him blush, and he immediately resolved to one-up him. "Goodnight, mon nounours."

Stanley shook his head in amusement, but then turned serious again. "Sleep, Adrien. I'll wake you when the sun rises so we can go inside."

"Okay," Lefou agreed. Then, softly: "Stanley? I… I'm looking forward to… to finding what's next for us. Spending time with you."

"I feel the same, mon cher," Stanley answered, voice deep and calming. "Now rest."

Lefou fell asleep with a heart full of joy.

—

Lefou awoke with a pained gasp. Initially he was unable to find the source of the searing agony in his lower left leg, but once he opened his eyes, the answer was clear, and it sent dread coursing through him.

"H-Hello? S-Someone help me!" He struggled to stand, but the bottom half of his leg was mangled. Sinews and shards of bone stuck out through the gaping hole, and just his attempt to move caused thick blood to gush out of the wound. He whimpered and then fell back, closing his eyes to block out the sight of his ruined leg falling apart.

"STANLEY! HELP!" he screamed, looking around the familiar forest for anything that might help. "STANLEY?! TOM, DICK, ANYONE? PLEASE!" He began to tremble, overwhelmed by both terror and pain.

"Please, no," he moaned, trying to drag himself forward. He tried to remember what could have happened to him. Or, he thought, stomach plummeting, what had happened to _them_.

Was Stanley nearby, but more gravely wounded than him? Was Stanley _dead_?

The desperation made him redouble his efforts to move. He managed a sort of crawl, though he groaned pitifully with each lurch forward.

"P-Please," he sobbed into the air, collapsing on the ground. "P-Please, I don't wanna die, not like this, please…"

A man stepped in front of him, and Lefou gasped.

"G-Gaston?!" He raised his head to confirm what he was sure was a hallucination. "You're alive?"

"No," said Gaston with a laugh, "I'm not, and neither are you."

"No," whispered Lefou. "I was just- I was just with Stanley. I can't be dead."

"Dying dreams," said Gaston with a cruel laugh. "You see what you want most, but then you face your divine judgment. You are facing yours, and Stanley is facing his- all because of you." He knelt beside Lefou, mockingly tilting Lefou's chin upwards. "Who would have thought _le duo_ would be together even here? And to think you said you were too good for me!"

"Gaston. Please," Lefou begged weakly. He remembered making much the same plea while being crushed under a harpsichord, and as the memory came to him, he knew Gaston would ignore him this time too. And this time, there would be no Stanley to offer comfort either. "S-Stanley can't be d-" He couldn't make himself say the word. "He can't be…"

"Well, he is," said Gaston. "Another demon is with him as we speak." He straightened then. "Now, old friend, we have some business to take care of." And suddenly, his skin melted away. He instead became a void, black and icy cold, and touched Lefou's chest directly above his heart.

The instant the Gaston-demon made contact, Lefou gasped, feeling agony flare from every nerve of his body. It was as though he was being simultaneously shocked, stabbed, and burned, and he screamed. "Stop! Gaston, please!" He slumped uselessly against the ground, praying to pass out, but no relief came. He sobbed Stanley's name in despair, realizing that if what Gaston had said was true, Stanley was experiencing the same thing. It made it even harder to bear.

Soon it became hard for Lefou to think, to do anything but wail with the excruciating sensation, but he managed to gasp, "w… what… are you… how…"

"You see, Lefou," the blackness said, hovering above Lefou's face. "Hell is often described as a place. But in fact, hell is a person- your own personal demon to torment you." It was still using Gaston's voice, and Lefou began to sob as the terror and pain overpowered all else.

Just as he was certain he would- he didn't know what, probably go insane- but just when he was sure he couldn't take any more, it all stopped, and he found that he was being absorbed into the demon's darkness. His body faded; everything faded except his consciousness and a creeping sense of despair.

"I will see you again," the demon vowed, "but for now, I will leave, simply because pain is so much more exquisite when it is interrupted with false hopes of rescue."

Lefou tried to ask a question, but before he could form it, he had returned to the person he needed most.

—

"STANLEY! STANLEY, HELP!"

Stanley jolted at the frantic cry, and immediately hurried to wake Lefou. The man had been groaning and crying through his sleep, revealing his nightmares, but Stanley had been unable to wake him. Afraid of drawing the attention of the villagers, Stanley had carried the man inside and to Stanley's bedroom, where all Stanley could do was hope it ended soon.

"ADRIEN!" He had to yell now, no longer able to take Lefou's heartbreaking pleas. "Adrien, wake up! You're safe, everything's fine!"

"Stanleyyyy," Lefou wailed, still in the throes of the nightmare. "No, G-Gaston, don't!"

Stanley shook Lefou desperately. "Wake up, Adrien!" he urged. "You have to get up! It's just a nightmare, I promise! C'est juste un cauchemar, petit."

Lefou was screaming as he awoke. He looked at Stanley, blinking rapidly in confusion. He finally registered what he was seeing, and he lunged forward, practically tackling Stanley in his rush to hug him. "Stanley!" he shouted. "Y-You're alive? We're alive?" He looked down at his leg, shaking it and noting the absence of injury with equal parts relief and incredulity.

"Why wouldn't we be?" Stanley's voice was a gentle murmur as he embraced Lefou, resting his chin on the smaller man's head. "It was just a nightmare. All is okay, I promise. Why don't you tell me about it?"

"We got attacked by the wolves," Lefou said tearfully. He let out a gasping breath. "And then a demon appeared, he looked like Gaston but he was- something else- and he was hurting me and he told me you died, and-" he broke into sobs.

"Shh." Stanley gently rocked Lefou in place. "Shh. It's okay now. I'm here, and we're both alive. Alive and well." He kissed the top of Lefou's head.

Seemingly not hearing Stanley's words, Lefou looked around his unfamiliar surroundings. He remembered being outdoors, but hadn't seen this bedroom before. It was plain, with white walls and a faded yellow bedspread and matching curtains. The floor was made of an old wood, though not visibly decaying. Frowning, Lefou asked, "Why am I here? Weren't we outside?"

"I moved you when you started dreaming. I tried to wake you, but couldn't," Stanley explained gently. "Come, let me make you some tea." He gently tugged on Lefou's arm.

"Okay," whispered Lefou, but his steps were unsteady. It was clear to Stanley that he was shaken to the core by this nightmare.

"Shh," he said again. He stroked the back of Lefou's hand. "You'll be okay, I swear. I won't let anything happen to you."

Lefou turned to face him and softly kissed his lips. Stanley let out a sigh of contentment and opened his mouth, deepening the kiss. Pulling away, he repeated his vow. "I'll never let anything happen to you, mon cher, now that you're mine to protect."

Lefou gave Stanley a faint smile, kissing his cheek. "Okay," he relented. "Okay. I believe you."

"Good," Stanley murmured, voice so soothing that Lefou wanted him to never fall silent.

"Good," whispered Lefou in agreement.


End file.
